


Hands job

by yogurt3200



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Crack, M/M, Newt is a Dork, Newt is embarrassed, Newt is worshiping, Percival is flirty, Percival is sassy, just an admiration of Graves' hands, more or less, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 05:17:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10482936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yogurt3200/pseuds/yogurt3200
Summary: Newt had ingrown nail and it did hurt. Queenie dragged him to a nail salon instead of a healer. Surprisingly, he wasn't the only customer there.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a behind the scene of ftbawtft where Colin Farrell places his hands on some wooden surface and his nails and hands looked gorgeous af. Percival Graves was a very stylish man and I doubt that he also took a lot of care of his hands and nails as well. Hell yeah.  
> [the post here](http://yogurt3200.tumblr.com/post/158930650299/swansansa-percival-graves)

The red head hissed as he accidentally hit his left thumb against his workshop desk in his shed, the pain was unbelievably throbbing when you had an ingrown nail. Newt groaned while looked at redness around the side of his nail skin and the ugly weird edge of his nail, not it was getting weirder and looked like it cut through the skin now.

 

“Ugh.” He grunted, tried to press the skin and again, hissed at the pain, yet forgot about it when he was back to work and tended his creatures.

 

It was Queenie who mentioned about it the very next days because she just heard him internally groaned in irritation about his ingrown nail, so, as a sweetheart she was, Queenie suggested Newt must have get nails done to get rid of ingrown nail.

 

“You can’t just hope it to disappear, honey, it worsens.”

 

Newt frowned, looked down on his hands, his ugly dirty nails.

 

“Trust me Newt. I know the best place to fix this.” The blonde said firmly, grabbed his hand and forcefully dragged the freckled magizoologist out of the Woolworth building.

 

“Is this the right place, Queenie?”

 

“Yes, it is! It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

 

“Um…I thought you meant a healer or someone who can heal?” Queenie pursed her pink lips and shook her head.

“This is better, honey. The feeling is truly heaven!” Newt was sure he blinked at the prettiest shop in front of them in utmost disbelief. The shop was surely pretty, with elegant and quite modern decorations, but…

 

“A nail place?”

 

“It called, nail salon, honey. You get manicure, pedicure, spa and all that jazz. This is the best place to fix your ingrown, and all those dirt in your nails.” She squealed in delight, totally ignoring Newt’s horror face. He protested.

 

“I-I can…Queenie, I think I can go to…a healer? Yeah?”

 

“Oh no, I’m not letting you, Newt. You need to take care of your hands. Look at these poor nails and dead skins.” She insisted and again forcefully dragged Newt inside.

 

The smell of nail polish hit his face immediately when they entered and Newt went a little dizzy. The bell jingled when the door opened and he heard a receptionist greeted Queenie brightly. Queenie was their regular here, unsurprisingly.

 

Newt’s mind blurred after that. Queenie talked about something, the receptionist smiled at him and talked about something. She led them inside, Newt was taking care in his very comfortably couch and female staffs asked him something and he didn’t know how to respond so he just nodded.

 

This is the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done.

 

All ladies in this shop looked at him with wide eyes, and whispered, and giggled, and everything that made Newt wanted to shrink in this seat, or best to disappear right now. His sight locked at his lap while the staff dipped his hands in the bowl filled with lukewarm water. Oh, this felt nice by the way.

 

Newt finally looked at his hand, much bigger and rougher than the female staff who was now taking care of his left hand, patted a soft cloth gently to dry it after cleansing.

“You don’t have to worry, sir. Ingrown nail happens with everyone, there’s no shame in it.” She assured with a small smile while gave him a little massage, with a right pressure and quick work of her fingers, shifted in circulate motion.

 

Ugh…this felt really nice.

 

“U-um…it’s…just unusual.” Newt muttered

 

“You’re not the only gentleman here, sir. We have male clients as well, some are our regular, like the one who was sitting over there, sir.” Newt couldn’t hold back his curiosity, of course, he had to know who was the gentleman who came to a bloody nail salon regularly.

 

The red head almost choked on his saliva and made himself a complete idiot in front of these beautiful ladies because THE GUY he just saw was the Percival Graves, a.k.a. the grumpiest and BAMF director of Magical Security of MACUSA. Seriously!?

 

He had to rubbed his eyes in case it was just a hallucination.

 

Oh man. Said director was sitting like a que—king in the salon maroon armchair, long leg crossed over another one looking so gorgeous. Both of his arm rested comfortably on the arm rests while two female staffs worked on both of his hands. The spa thing Newt didn’t know how to describe.

 

His hands looked so sophisticated. It was long and delicate, and healthy. The skin of his hand was really moisturized, smooth as fuck. His nails looked super healthy and pink. They were all in perfect shape, the skin around them was nicely trimmed, his nails were perfectly cut, not too short and not too long so Newt could see the white tips curved beautifully.

 

And his posture was boss as fuck. Bloody Moly Morgana. How could any man could sit there and made all ladies looked like they were his slaves, or drooled over a man getting his manicure. Eyes closed as he enjoyed his spa, foot swinging at the jazz music playing inside the salon a little. He looked so freaking relax, too relax in contrary of his stern serious persona at work.

 

Ugh, his hands were exquisite. Newt was slayed, would doubtfully break 100 laws if it meant that beautiful hands would grab his wrist, cuffed him, and made him pray for mercy. Oh yes, Newt never wanted to touch anyone’s hand as much as he wanted to touch Mr. Graves’ now.

 

Graves opened his eyes when the staffs asked him something, felt being watched so he looked toward Newt. The magizoologist ducked his head, embarrassedly red to his toes, and the director smirked just a little.

 

Next time Newt accidentally met the director at MACUSA, he was looking at his beautiful hands because why not? He was certain that Graves used hand gestures more than he used to while he talked. Pointing here and there, moved his hand around in the air, traced his elegant finger over the parchment, tapped his finger at his cheek, used wandless magic a lot more than he should. It was fun when Newt’s green eyes (sometimes his head) gawkily just went to every direction his hands went like a curious cat.

 

Oh yes, Newt was sure he dreamed about the director’s hand a lot.

 

And in inappropriate scenarios that he probably shouldn't, because why not?

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are loved! I hope you guys enjoy this prompt!  
> and you can talk or throw some prompt to me at [my tumblr](http://yogurt3200.tumblr.com) as well!


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